Clarity
by Hobbit985
Summary: Set during/after 'Merry Little Christmas'. An accompanying scene. What happened before Wilson found House, and what went through the Maverick doctor's mind after his friend left him alone? IMPLIED SLASH


No matter what anyone said, House _had_ been thinking straight. Well… no… House hated that phrase. Thinking straight. If everyone thought in straight lines then the world would be a very dull place indeed. He always thought in twists and turns. But he had been thinking clearly.

He knew the risks of ingesting that amount of narcotics mixed with alcohol. He also knew that, should he still be alive the next morning, Cuddy and Wilson would both be on his case. Still, if they were pissed at him at least they wouldn't be moaning about the pills.

House phoned his mother. That was the main reason he knew that he had considered this properly. He _never_ phoned his mother. When he had his infarction, when he was shot; he refused to bother his parents with it.

The other thing was the note he spent the last few hours of consciousness writing. Of all the people whose lives would get easier without him, there was one person whose life wouldn't. One person who would probably hate him for doing this. One person who deserved an explanation.

Cuddy would have to find someone new to run the diagnostic department, but House was pretty sure that job would be offered to Foreman. That meant that Cameron and Chase would still have secure jobs, but Wilson would be down a friend and even House had to admit that replacing a friend was almost impossible.

When Wilson had found him lying on the floor of his apartment, House had tried to swat him away, get him out before he found the note. He needn't have worried however, as Wilson's self righteousness made the Oncologist walk out and leave his friend lying next to his own puke.

When House finally tidied himself up he knew that death was not the answer. He could do this. Maybe it was worth his pride to carry on saving patients. Maybe… even if he did lose his medical licence, maybe Wilson was enough?

He picked up the note and turned it over in his hands, unfolding the paper and re-reading the words that, when he wasn't drunk or high, he would never voice. The words he was glad that Wilson hadn't seen. Not yet anyway; he wasn't ready to admit just how much he needed him.

_Wilson,_

_The thing that annoys you most is the fact I won't admit that I can do wrong. Well I can't help, because I didn't do anything wrong. Ok, so I'm in big trouble and I've dragged you down too, but I didn't do anything lawfully wrong._

_I might however have completely screwed up whatever relationship we had before. I know I've stabbed up in the back and that, really, I don't deserve a friend like you (which is your own stupid pathetic fault) but I shouldn't abuse that fact._

_If you're reading this, then you know that I'm dead. I know that it's a selfish thing to do where you're concerned, but as soon as Tritter is off the hospital's back, Cuddy, Foreman, Cameron and Chase will have it easy._

_You'll get your car back and the police will stop messing about with your account, but you'll have lost me. I think it's a fair trade even if you don't._

_Just so you know, I'm both drunk and stoned at the moment (is it possible to be both at the same time?) so whatever I write in the letter will probably be things I would never say out loud. So don't repeat them, got it? I don't believe in the afterlife but if you tell anyone what I wrote I swear to God I will come back and haunt your ass, and trust me, ghost House will be a lot more annoying._

_Anyway, when you've stopped being pissed at me for ending the pain, try and… well… I would say move on, but you'll be so angry that you won't have not moved on… if you see… never mind. I think the narcotics are affecting my brain. _

_I love you (see now I'm definitely stoned) and as much as you think I never cared about you, I did. Every action I considered the effect on you. Sometimes it still had to be done even if it meant pushing you away, but ultimately I never wanted to lose you._

_You might want to burn this letter when you've read it. You won't want to read it again, you'll be too depressed or whatever and I'd rather the police didn't get hold of it. It'll end up in an evidence bag and used in the inquiry into my death and… it's only meant for your eyes._

_I would say see you later… but… you know… don't believe in the after life…_

_House_

_P.s. You can have my possessions. I don't think my Mom would want anything and I don't want my Dad having any of my stuff. I've written a separate note dividing up my belongings. That one you can show to the police._

House sighed, folded the note back up and put in his pocket. He hadn't had a clue what he was writing when he came up with that note, but it was all true. That was the scariest part.

He limped towards the door, grabbing his cane and pulling on his coat. Everything he did he considered Wilson's feelings. Taking a deep breath he stepped out into the cold night air. Time to accept the deal.


End file.
